`Swoosh". The shiny glass library doors opened in front of us. My 10-year-old daughter Tracy skipped ahead of Amanda and me. I called after her, "Tracy, have you got your digibook?"

Of course she hadn't, I was keeping it in my handbag. I swiftly extracted the soft, cloth-covered, "book". It was about the size of an old-fashioned paperback, but at the touch of a button a screen turned on which looked just like printed paper.

Tracy skipped up to the nearest computer showing the smiley "children's" symbol on it and pushed a tiny plug into her digibook. I watched as she easily accessed the library's book list and began to select the books she would download. After a few more seconds Tracy had chosen her books and proceeded to check her e-mail account.

"Mum! Siobhan Parkinson is doing an interactive hologram reading here next Thursday! Can I submit a question? Please?"

I smiled, "You know I used to read her when I was your age. Of course you can put in a question, but just remember, this reading is going to be shown in libraries all over the country, so don't be too disappointed if your question doesn't get asked." She reassured me, but I could already see the tears.

"Mummy, Mummy, c'n I go dwawing?" Amanda was pulling at my tightly clasped hand. I agreed and led Amanda over to the tiny bright red tables which had a thin screen over their surfaces. Amanda grabbed a chunky pen, attached to the table by a colourful chord, in between her chubby fingers. At once she started doodling on the table and, when the "Magic" pen touched the screen, brilliant, bright, blue appeared in Amanda's scribbled design. She pressed a button on the edge of the table, and suddenly she was drawing in red, then purple! Her face, radiant and beaming, lit up when she discovered that, as she jabbed the dog icon, her pen movements were followed by paw prints.

Almost wistfully, I recalled meticulously drawing and colouring in my own pawprints in flimsy wax crayons which snapped when you held them too tight and were lost within days. "Mummy, aw done."

I realised, from a quick look at the electronic notice board, that story time was just beginning. Soon Amanda had settled down on a small pile of cushions next to other three--year-olds. A few seconds later a young librarian walked over and, with a dazzling smile, announced that today's book was Goldilocks and the Three Bears. A tiny wave of sadness washed over me when Amanda whispered, "Mummy, what's `bears'?" She forced me to admit that bears were extinct but when I was a child they used to live in forests.

A whizzing noise, and then a beautiful, colourful picture of a small girl with two golden pigtails, wearing a blue and white party dress and shiny black shoes, appeared on a screen beside the librarian. Beneath the picture, the words "This is Goldilocks" were shown in a deep blue surrounded by tiny decorative flowers. The librarian began to read, following the words and pictures displayed on the screen.

The whole thing seemed infinitely different to my childhood, with the middleaged lady showing us pictures from a tiny hand-held book and reading them out at a barely-audible whisper.

I left Amanda in the capable words of Goldilocks, took a quick check on Tracy, who was still on her original computer but was now downloading videoclips for a school project on Shakespeare.

I made my way to the silent section of the library which was almost completely cordoned off by the thick glass walls. Inside, the silence was amazing. Apart from the click, click of computer mice and the tap-clack-tap-clack-tap-clack of typists, if silence were golden then the compartment would have shimmered. The room was softly lit and had a calming effect. The only two walls were painted a metallic grey, and the floor was thickly carpeted in a deep purple. I sighed happily (a big mistake which attracted a few looks).

I carefully plugged in my own digibook. First I checked my e-mail account. Great! A week ago I had requested the library buy Blue Sea Sky and they e-mailed me to report that this book was now accessible. Years ago I would have had to wait weeks for the book to come and then put my name on a waiting list to actually borrow it. Now, I clicked on to the New Books List, selected Blue Sea Sky and waited a couple of minutes for the book to download on to my digibook. While waiting, I glanced at the reviews of a new book by Sean O Laoi. The reviews written by past readers were fantastic, but I didn't know much about his style of writing. A few seconds later I was reading the first five pages of his book on the sample program. The writing was excellent, so I downloaded it.

As I left the silent section, I noticed Bridie Dolan from down the road, sitting on a comfy desk chair, with her beautiful guide dog sitting obediently beside here. Instead of a digibook she was holding a small Braille-Byte book. All over the BB-book were tiny metal columns which could rise and fall as was needed to write the story in Braille. After saying a quick "Hello", I continued into the Museum Section.

This section was like a different world. Instead of buzzing computers there were old metal shelves; instead of digibooks, I saw paperbacks and thick dusty voluminous novels. A book that I had loved when I was young caught my eye: Harry and The Wrinklies by Alan Temperely. Just remembering this book brought a smile to my face. I don't think they even print copies any more. The pages cricked and cracked as I turned them and clouds of dust blew up everywhere. Calmly I sat down on a cosy chair and began to read the faded, exciting words. Even if the computer is, or will be, the library's best friend, we can always go back to a book.

The An Chomhairle Leabharlanna Competition is organised in association with The Irish Times and International Education Services